Daughter of Zirekile
by Promathia
Summary: Nearly two decades since the disappearance of Ramza and Alma Beoulve, a new threat surfaces to challenge Ivalice. And this time, there are no nobleminded heroes to save it... Can a young girl discover her destiny and spare the land from this new evil?


Ah, _Daughter of Zirekile_. Probably one of my favorite works, if not my favorite work. It's my first ever attempt at original fan fiction, and hopefully, in due time, will gather up some fans (once I start adding chapters… I hope). Anyways, this is set about twenty years after the end of _Final Fantasy Tactics_, and is set in the reign of the tyrannical King Delita and his mysterious and lethal henchmen.

And, of course, I don't own Square Enix or _Final Fantasy Tactics_. Enjoy.

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**_Chapter I: Flower of the Wind_**

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The night was cold and windy, unforgiving and dark. The moon was slightly shrouded by the gathering clouds, and the stars were not present at all. The cool breezes were no longer pleasant; now they were icy and lonely to an extent that they could not be warmed. It was winter, however no snow fell in the dark night sky. However cold and lifeless it might've seemed, life did bustle for those who were there.

A Red Panther and her young bundled tightly in her den beneath a thicket of briar bushes near the pool. The father, the predominant hunter of the family, was out gathering dinner, most likely of Goblin and Chocobo. The mother lay, eyes open and alert, whilst her children slumbered dreamily, exhausted with a day of exploring.

The father was taking a long time, and the mother grew worried as the minutes passed. Just as she rose her head to look around for her mate, she heard a screech of a Juravis and the dead thump as its body hit the ground from its perch in a tree. Several more screeches followed, finished by a satisfied snarl and the noise of the bodies being lifted slowly from their resting places. Before she could make another move, the father entered the den, four Juravis birds clamped in his jaws.

Not much farther away, a Black Chocobo father and mother rushed down a small stream leading away from the cool waters of the pool, two of their young running beside them while a third rested peacefully on his mother's back. The herd was moving, and the family was hasty to keep up with them lest they be left behind, a situation that would be dire indeed.

In the water of the pool itself, a Pisco Demon lay in deep meditation, eyes closed and tentacles about, feeling the water for the vibrations of the earth and ripples from disturbances in the pond. Its robe billowed with the constant rush of water from the glorious Zirekile Falls that gushed behind it, a soothing sensation pleasing to a water dweller such as it. Suddenly it opened its eyes, which glowed with the light of a deadly premonition. _Chaos,_ it thought to itself. _Chaos and hatred are lurking not too far into the future._

An Ochu squirmed with its mate on the shores of the pool, snapping fish out of the water and ravenously eating them raw. It was a pastime customary to those of its kind, but the fish weren't smart enough to learn that the banks were not safe. A fat tentacle brought up a catfish before being thrust down the Ochu's throat, still living. The two lovesick creatures then squirmed off, eyes glazed with both love and satisfaction from hunger.

None of the poolside dwellers, not even the Pisco Demon, realized that there was another presence among them, one that was not a fiend. It was a human, a silent, stealthy human, one wearing a tunic of gold and red. The human was a female, a rather beautiful one of a tan, slim complexion with golden hair. The hair was drawn back by a single silver cord as to keep it from coming into her face. A quiver hung upon her back, and two tough boots of germinas rubber were on her legs, protecting her from the brambles and briars that lay scattered amongst the foliage of the ground. In her hands was a silver bow, readied with a wooden arrow fletched with Cockatoris feathers. The girl was a huntress, seeking out her prey.

The Pisco Demon was the first to realize the girl's presence, and thus masked itself in a bubble as it descended far beneath the water's surface. The Red Panther mother was the next to realize it, and she huddled close to her young as the father joined her. The Chocobos were next, running faster and out of the girl's range. The mate of the Ochu was the last one to realize the girl's presence, scuttling off into the bushes concernedly and motioning to its mate, who was playing in the mud. It was too late for a warning to the Ochu's loved one: the arrow flew straight and true into the creature's flesh. It writhed for a few seconds before letting out a sickening gurgle as blood and bile came out of its mouth in a putrid, acrid puddle.

The moments of pain were soon gone, and the mate of the Ochu had disappeared, weeping. The victim was dead, and the huntress was approaching its prey. She stood aloof from it for a moment, looking it over to make sure it was dead, then pulled out the arrow from its side. She had hit it perfectly in its weak spot, the pocket of flesh just before its eyes. After this, she bagged its body and heaved it over one shoulder, then turned around to climb back up the cliff side back to whence she had came.

It had taken her half an hour to fully scope it getting down, but now she had a dead Ochu on her back and she was going up. Without even a sigh she began her journey, eyes gazing upwards as her hands masterfully grabbed the rocks in such practiced movement one could easily tell that she had done it many times before. Surprisingly, she moved with agile grace despite the heavy load on her back. The water rushed beside her and the breeze blew around her, and amidst this and her throbbing heart she was at a strange sense of peace.

She finally reached the top one hour later as the moon arched higher in the sky. She walked slowly, catching her breath, which was misty upon the air from the iciness around her. Finally, when she reached the clearing in the center of many high pine trees, she pulled the cord from her hair and let her golden tresses cascade forth unrestrained. Taking a deep breath, she continued her trek to her final resting place: the Haven of Zirekile.

She had lived and learned there all her life, learning the trades of a warrior, thief, dancer, archer, and magician, learning the arts of fire, ice, and thunder, while studying the arts of dispatching her foes silently and stealthily with knives and blades alike. She studied hard to become the ultimate warrior, the ideal warrior, the perfect warrior. The perfect warrior, one who could move in, dispatch, and move out, all with grace and stealth, the one who had the power to slay a thousand men and the wisdom to outwit a thousand fiends... That was her goal. She would fail to not only her fellow comrades, but also herself, if she faltered and fell. That was not allowed at the Haven of Zirekile, the Haven for those with dreams, goals, and talents greater than anyone else.

She faintly remembered her life in Dorter Trade City, when she was the daughter of a wealthy overseas merchant. She had lived in the lap of luxury, only to find herself just as poor as the people on the street. Alone and without parents anymore, she packed lightly and escaped her life, fleeing to the Haven and never returning to her past life. That had been fifteen years ago, and now she was twenty-seven years of age.

The trees cast unforgiving shadows that did not quiver in the slightest as she passed through them, her feet taking the quickest path back to her home. They knew the way almost instinctively; it had been a test all too many times of being blindfolded and having to walk back home, all alone. Her liquid silver eyes scanned the ground. She did not even have to step on the rope next to the tree anymore; instead she stopped in front of it and picked it up. She gave it a sharp tug, and the stone blocking the secret path rolled away. She followed down the darker, narrower path back home. It was the only way home now.

Nearly two hours had passed since she had first found her kill when she arrived back at the Haven of Zirekile. The place was hardly identifiable, as its main passage dug through a hill. The passage winded back under into a deep basin, in which was a large pool on which the Haven itself was built. It was virtually invisible to anyone who sought to find it, mainly King Delita and his men. None had succeeded, all though several had come close.

The main purpose of the Haven was to shelter those with greater talents and dreams than everyone else, of these people herself and many others. The secondary purpose was that it was the largest undercover rebellion group against King Delita and his group of "enforcers" who only sought to keep everyone and everything out of royal business, which was kept highly secure. Lord Monkaskik, a wealthy and powerful man who decided that he a fort near Zirekile Falls would be the perfect refuge for war, had founded it two hundred years ago. He hired a work force to build it deep within the forests at the waterfalls' tops, and then assigned the same crew to tend to the house while he was not there. Eventually, he hired them to train and study as warriors if the need arose. That was when the true Haven was established.

Lord Monkaskik died without any heirs, and thus the Haven of Zirekile was left to the servants. They began an academy of sorts for those with exceptionally extraordinary abilities. Drafting these "special" to-be warriors from around Ivalice, they came in by the hundreds. Many did not make it through the First Trial; others failed throughout the Second and Third Trials. But the Final Trial tore the most out of the ranks. The select few that made it through all four trials were rewarded with the honor of being a student at the Haven. They all, of course, accepted.

The years had been rigorous, with many famous names to come from the Haven. A rumor was spread that Marquis Elmdor, of Limberry, attended for a time, as did a young man named Kletian Drowa. Hundreds of students at the Haven grew in their power, some learning the grueling arts of physical battle and others vast amounts of magical lore. There were two that stood out amongst the others, and were eventually named the two most successful students ever to train at the Haven. They were sisters who were just as stealthy and powerful as they were beautiful. Their names were Celia and Lede.

That was at least a hundred years ago, though, the girl knew quite well. Celia and Lede left the Haven shortly after mastering their abilities and became gloriously renowned throughout Ivalice for their finesse in their dark battle arts. However, they both were killed in a bloody battle, their bodies never recovered. She had held the two as role models as what she wanted to be. What did she want to be? That was quite simple. She wanted to be an assassin.

She had trained in the arts of the Samurai, learned the stealth of the ninja, and mastered the aim of the archer. She had learned the power of the knight, the wisdom of the oracle, and the intelligence of the summoner. She had conquered the arts of the mediator and completed the trials of the dancer. She was, in a sense, a goddess of battle. She had killed nearly a hundred humans, and even more fiends, both in fighting and for hunting.

She opened the front door to the Haven and walked inside, the warmth of the hallway greeting her warmly and giving her a tingling sensation all over. She did not smile, however: she never smiled. Walking down the hallway with the putrid sack on her shoulder, she suddenly felt a sense of peace, one she had felt when she was climbing the cliff. She enjoyed such a peace. It gave her satisfaction in herself and her abilities, the abilities she had honed for fifteen years.

The hallway was unnaturally empty, and the girl was slightly taken off-guard. That was odd, but not seriously odd. Everyone was probably at the dining hall, or something of the like. She shook her head slightly, golden hair shaking. The darkness of the hallway was only illuminated by several torches, all which were almost too small for their black iron sconces. She was quick with her steps, reaching the stairway at the end of the hall quite speedily.

She rushed down the stairwell and into the second hall, which was not nearly as long. Finally, her hands rested upon the copper handle of the mahogany door to the brisk night air and the Haven. She opened it slowly, the icy air quick to meet her and pinching her skin everywhere it could. She was hasty as she sped from the exit of the hallway to the Haven, which loomed like a mass of darkness in the horizon.

After what seemed like ages, she reached the entrance to the Haven. It reached up for many fathoms above her, towering over her like a black colossus shrouded by the dark night clouds. She knocked four times on the silver door, and then rapped her knuckles four and a half times before hitting it squarely with her flattened hand. The note of her flesh against metal rang out for a split second before the door without a handle opened up to reveal the Haven within.

The main antechamber was extremely tall, reaching up to nearly the ceiling of the fifth floor: the highest floor of the Haven where only the trainers and leaders slept. The fourth floor was designated for the students, as were the third, and the first and second, being the largest floors, were designated for the training itself. The dining hall was the first room on the first floor, minus the antechamber.

She walked slowly, her boots soundless upon the wooden floor. Gracefully she flew across it, her feet nearly missing the ground entirely. She reached the dining hall's doors more quickly than she expected. With a sigh behind clenched teeth, she opened the door and was greeted by the thick aroma of Chocobo sirloins and hot, buttery bread. The smell was inviting, and she walked across the occupied floor to the kitchens.

All though the dining hall was filled, no one spoke. The only noise was that of chomping, chewing, gulping, the clinking of silverware, and the occasional thump of feet. But no one spoke, not even whispered. With her fair hair billowing behind her, the girl made her way across the floor, her boots not making a noise against the perfect wood.

She burst into the kitchens, surprising the cooks. The head chef, known to everyone as J.I., approached her, eyes wide at the sight of the sack she carried.

"You are late," he said blankly. "You better have a good catch, otherwise Mistress will get very mad. She was quite vexed with your performance yesterday as well."

"Well tell Mistress I made an excellent catch," she said coldly. "Take it. It's a female Ochu, not even four months old. She was in the middle of courting with her mate when I shot her." There was no emotion in her voice, not anger, sorrow, or pity. It was just a blank, cold absence, devoid of anything at all but frost.

"A female Ochu? When did you shoot her?" J.I. asked. The girl turned to him unenthusiastically.

"At least two hours ago," she replied. "She's well preserved, though. At four months old, the meat of one gets much tougher. From what I can tell, her meat will be softer and less demanding to cook as well."

"Good, good," J.I. said approvingly. "You may sit down now."

The girl nodded and left the kitchens. Back in the dining hall, she made her way to the second tier of tables where the more advanced students went to eat their meals. She sat down just as an eager servant plopped a plate of aromatic Chocobo meat and a buttered roll. Shortly following she put down a glass of cold milk.

The girl ate silently, avoiding the gazes of her peers who were puzzled by her absence. She was not a very outgoing person. She had long since disregarded friendships as invitations of weakness, and only had a select few acquaintances that had the right to call her a "friend." She ate her food gracefully, almost like a noble. Ignoring her hunger, she went for manners, an important part of the grace of a dancer.

Shortly after finishing her meal the students of the second tier were rewarded with a second plate of food, this one of freshly prepared Ochu meat. Just as she had predicted, it was soft and juicy. She ate it just as daintily as she had the Chocobo, eyes boring holes into the floor as she was determined to erase the image of the writhing creature. She couldn't keep that in her head; it would interfere in meditation...

As dinner came to a close, Astrid, a beautiful young oracle, walked up to the podium on the fourth tier. Using magic to project her voice, she announced, "Would all second tier students assigned to hunting duty for either tonight or tomorrow please report to the outpost for guard duty."

The girl groaned. "Great. This will be a night to remember," she said sarcastically. "I'll be bored the entire night long, and I won't get to sleep at all." No, that wasn't entirely true. If no one was watching, she could catch a few winks. No, that wasn't the way to become a true assassin...

With a sigh she headed briskly into the changing rooms to switch garments. If anything, she would wear her true attire for being an assassin to keep her occupied with training for a while. She did not want to have to wear her tunic the entire night and have to practice archery, an art she had long since mastered.

She peeled off her clothes, which to her were surprisingly sweaty, and stood for a moment in her soft cotton undergarments before taking out a light blue cloak, a robe that was adept for stealth. She slipped into it, snapping the straps on the back. It was a lovely robe, finely wrought of silk and sewn with white silk in patterns of butterflies and flowers, both ancient and beautiful. She took off her boots and replaced them with tight sandals, and then hastily brushed her hair. She then picked out a warm blue silk scarf and wrapped it around her neck, covering her mouth. Eyes shining, she left the room.

She headed to the weaponry next, opening the door quickly and stepping inside. She was not alone in this room. A young man in a Samurai's armor was picking out katanas to wield for guard duty, and a beautiful female archer with her hair in buns was taking her time to choose a bow and quiver. With a nod, she stood beside the Samurai and began to choose her katanas that she would use. With the mastery of the ninja, she could wield two at once, making her a warrior unlike any other.

She finally settled on the Masamune and the Chirijiraden, two of the most ancient katanas the Haven had to offer. The Masamune was a beautiful blade with a golden dragon on the handle and spindly red fire twisting up the silver blade. Its sheath was even more beautiful, with its top lined with gold and crimson blazes dotting the edges while a true red flame curled and twisted down. The Chirijiraden was a beautiful blade as well, with its handle being a silver dragon with sapphires for eyes. A small flower was etched into the beginning of the blade, and then rushing down from that were many thorny roses, all masterfully etched into the blade. The sheath was cerulean in color, with a large blue rose painted on it and with silver lining the top.

"Good choice," muttered the Samurai, annoyed that she had chosen the two he wanted the most.

"I know. I always make them," she replied coldly.

After that, she left the room and headed to the last stop before leaving the Haven for her duties: the armory. There, she selected some Chantage perfume and released its airy, aromatic scent on her neck and wrists. She also picked up a Ribbon there and tied it in her hair, making sure it was securely fastened to her golden locks. In a very practiced movement she twirled around and left the room almost as quickly as she had come.

As she approached the gate to leave the Haven and enter the wall, she approached the familiar desk at which a female Samurai sat with a scroll of vellum, a quill, and an inkwell. She looked up at the girl. "What equipment are you borrowing?"

"One Chirijiraden, one Masamune, one Ribbon, one Robe of Lords, and one Chantage," she said. The woman nodded.

"What is your name?" she asked. The girl hesitated for a moment.

"My name is Selena," she said softly. "My name is... Selena."

"Selena... Okay, you are on the base ground floor about half a mile into the woods," the Samurai woman said. "Go back down to the base ground gate and leave through there. Leon should be able to tell you where to go."

"Okay," Selena said glumly. She hadn't spoken her name to anyone in a long time, longer than her memory could tell. Base ground duty was the best type of duty, however, for the inspectors never did come too close to your position and you could train... And sometimes you could sleep.

Selena walked gracefully down the wooden steps onto the floor of the dining hall, then headed to the base ground gate. Leon, an experienced knight, stood there reading a scroll of paper obviously from the Samurai woman.

"Are you... Selena?" he asked her. She nodded.

"Follow the braziers until the third one, then turn at a 90 degree angle and go northeast for forty paces, then north for fifty paces. Stop when you find the tree with a heart carved into the bark," he instructed. Selena nodded and passed through the gate, the cold night air once again greeting her warmth by taking it away.

She followed the braziers until the third one, then turned northeast and walked forty paces. Her training was on her mind. She had to train when she was guarding, it was mandatory, she had to... Why was she in this intoxicated state of mind? She did not have to do really anything but stand and wait for ten hours or so. No one ever got close enough for a warning, and even when they did Selena had never encountered one, even after her previous fifty times as guard.

She nearly missed the end of the forty paces before she turned north and walked again for fifty paces. She was in the woods now. Walking slowly as not to catch her robe on anything, she passed over a log bridge over a swift creek and onto the other side. Finally, she found a small clearing in which was a broad oak. On the bark was carved a large heart, and inside of it was carved two initials, R and B.

"Strange," she murmured to herself. She didn't know a couple with names beginning with R and B. She was quick to realize that maybe the couple that carved the initials was a couple she didn't know. "I bet its some lovebirds from Bariaus Hill, or Lionel Castle, who came up here for a date."

She began to yawn, and then stifled it. She had to keep herself awake, lest she be taken by the temptations of sleep... She decided that she would train. That was a pastime the inspectors did allow, as you not only were on guard but you also were sharpening your skills. She drew her two katanas from their sheaths and held then pointed down, parallel with her body. She closed her eyes as a cold wind rushed to greet her, causing her golden hair to billow out behind her.

She felt the wind in her hair and was soothed, and once again felt at peace. Suddenly she flipped backwards, swords at her sides, and then charged forward in graceful slashes. There was no noise except the sound of her blades cutting through the air and her stifled breathing. She twirled and turned, her swords plunging through the air with a sense of elegance she could not match with any other weapon. The hours rushed by until the moon was two hours past its midpoint. She was tired, but did not falter with her training.

She stopped briskly to rest, sheathing her katanas in a way that they would be easy to draw once she was done relaxing. Placing her hands on her knees, she took deep breaths and closed her eyes.

"You're very good," said a voice from behind the trees, a voice both inhuman and human all at once. It was so sudden, and so random; Selena nearly mistook it for a figment of her imagination.

Selena's eyes widened in a mingled sense of duty and fright, all though the latter she would never admit to her fellow comrades. "Who's there?" she asked. Hollow, echoing laughter of the voice followed.

"Oh, just an... admirer," the voice replied. "How long have you trained?"

"Get out," she said. "Get out!"

The voice laughed again, its cackling loud and echoing. It was laughter so inhuman she nearly cringed. "Stop laughing!" she commanded. The laughter stopped short.

"No, you foolish little maggot," the voice replied quickly, and Selena heard a rustle in the treetops. The moon finally came out from behind the clouds, and a silver shaft of moonlight poured down upon the trees, revealing a dark mass on one branch. As if it were water, the mass moved fluidly from the branch onto the ground. It made sure that it was securely in the darkness before speaking again.

"Why are you here?" she asked it. It merely shook its head. She could not make much out of it, except that it was wearing a heavy black cloak, which disguised its face. Anger welled up from within her. "Go away. Get out, unless you want me to call the rest of the guard to kill you!"

"Oh, that won't be necessary," the creature hissed. "Besides, how are you going to get the rest of the guard?"

"What do you mean?" Selena asked just as the answer came roaring behind her. She could hear screams... She could hear a myriad of screams, both anguish and death. The creature came closer to the edge of the shadows cast by the trees, but did not enter the moonlight.

"I mean that you are going to fall just as quickly as they are," it said. Selena drew her blades, eyes becoming determined with a light no one had ever seen before.

"I don't think so," Selena said. "I'm the head of my tier, and have been there for nearly a decade. I won't fall as easily as you think, fool."

"Oh, but I am no fool," the creature said, and then cackled again. Selena had to keep her cool when it did so. She couldn't burst out in rage, which would be very unwise...

Before she could stop it, it entered the light. A beam of silver light fell down on it and immediately it faded from sight. Confused, Selena looked around. She heard a rustle of the leaves on the ground... Where did it go?

"Show yourself, you coward!" she called out. The voice came back in its echoing laughter.

"No," it said into her ear, frightening her to the extent that she cringed. Suddenly she felt intense heat and a force so strong it pushed her into the tree with the heart in its bark. Her sight went blurred, and then it all went black.

Suddenly she found herself on the streets of Dorter, clutching a teddy bear in a fleecy white robe. It was winter... She was alone, just like she always was. It was nighttime. "Daddy!" she called out. "Daddy!"

No answer came to her. She sat down and cried a puddle of tears, tears that nearly froze on the snowy ground. The light of the moon was her only guide... Her father would not come home. He couldn't come home... He...

The sharp smell of smoke woke her up. Groggily she looked around. Black tendrils of smoke where curling around in the air, and she was no longer cold. A bright orange glow was emanating from behind her. Turning around, her eyes widened in fear and anguish as she saw the entire Haven of Zirekile, the place she had called home for so many years, up in flames.

"NO!" she screamed, running as fast as she could out the forest, her silken scarf billowing in the wind behind her with her hair. No, this couldn't be happening, no...

"NO! NO!" she screamed out, anguish filling every pore of her body as she burst upon the field. The braziers had all been knocked over, and molten, flammable liquids had poured upon the ground. Several had been taken to light the Haven itself. She was left in the warm glow of the flames that were destroying the place she had called home for a decade and a half. No, how could this be happening?

Suddenly the black figure came flooding into her mind. He did it, him and whoever was helping him. If only she had reported earlier, if only she hadn't been so lazy... She knew even if she had been more alert, and had reported earlier, the same thing would've happened. This could not be possible, why her? She all ready had misfortune befall her in her youth... Why now, when everything was looking up?

Suddenly she felt the familiar presence of the black figure come up from behind her. Angrily, she drew her katanas and turned around, slashing wildly at anything and everything until she tripped on a root and fell to the ground. She could not see the black figure anymore... But she felt cold breath upon her neck and in her ear, the same ear it had spoken in before.

"King Delita sends his regards," the foul creature spat, and then left her alone on the blazing plain, weeping for the first time since she had heard the news of her father. Her father... The Haven of Zirekile... No... Blackness once again flooded her vision and she was left alone.


End file.
